Our Dear Uncle Eames
by sandie.eggo
Summary: Arthur and Ariadne's children adore Eames, but the feeling is more than mutual. A look into the effect their children have on Eames' life and the makeshift family they create.
1. Baby Vomit Means Everything

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Warning!: **This fic is beyond fluffy! Read at your own risk!

**Summary:** Arthur and Ariadne's children adore Eames, but the feeling is more than mutual. A look into the effect their children have on Eames' life and the makeshift family they create.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Baby Vomit Means Everything<strong>

Eames finds some satisfaction in hearing his heavy stomping footsteps echoing up the wooden stairs of Arthur and Ariadne's home. He's trying to blow off some steam and the reason for his frustration is as usual, the point man. He's climbing the stairs now in search of Ariadne, who he needs to keep him from giving into his instincts of wanting to punch his smug friend in the face.

"Ariadne? Ariadne? Oh there you are. How attached to Arthur are you?"

Ariadne smiles, tiredly, Eames thinks, at his lack of preamble while she adjusts the infant in her arms. It appears she just finished feeding little Elizabeth.

"I'm very attached, especially since he's the father of our baby. Why do you ask?"

Eames casually crosses his arms and legs and leans against the door jamb of Elizabeth's nursery. He should probably leave the two alone but he's oddly fascinated with the interaction between mother and baby. He's never had the occasion to spend a lot of time with babies, or mothers, for that matter, and he's curious about the bond between the two.

"I thought I'd be considerate and consult you before I give your husband a black eye," he says flippantly. And then, switching focus, he asks, "Are you giving her a massage?" He watches Ariadne rub Elizabeth's back. Surely the little thing can't be that wound up.

On second thought, Arthur is her father so…

"No, I'm burping her." Ariadne laughs softly, directing her next words to the baby on her shoulder. "Elizabeth, why don't you tell your Uncle Eames that you don't want him to punch your daddy, hmm?" She turns the baby around in her arms and waves little Elizabeth's arm at him. "Hello, Uncle Eames. Please don't give my daddy a black eye."

Eames suppresses a groan at Ariadne's attempt at a childish voice, but awkwardly says hello and gives a wave of his own, anyway. "I'm sorry Elizabeth, but I can't make any promises." The baby isn't impressed and stares off to one corner of the room before Ariadne turns her back around to continue burping her.

Sighing, Ariadne asks, "What are you two fighting about now?"

"We're not fighting. We're just strongly disagreeing with the fact that he is an ars—annoying," he finishes, when Ariadne gives him a stern look.

Ariadne clicks her tongue in disapproval and addresses Elizabeth. "Don't worry Elizabeth. Despite what you hear, your daddy and Uncle Eames do love each other very much."

"I don't love Arthur!" Eames knows he sounds like a petulant little boy, but he can't help it.

Ariadne yawns, ignoring his outburst. "Tell you what." She and Elizabeth rise from their seat and head over to Eames. "Why don't you finishing burping Elizabeth and I'll, as usual, smooth everything out."

Eames' eyes nearly bug out of his face. "What? I—I can't finish burping her."

"Why not?"

"Be-because." He didn't want to admit it upfront, but he had never held a baby before. He's never had the occasion to and he has no idea what to do. She's so tiny. What if he breaks her?

"Because is not a reason, Eames." Despite him being much taller and much bigger than she, Ariadne easily pushes Eames into her vacated chair.

"Well, I can be rather clumsy, you know. Bull in a china shop and all that."

"You're nothing of the sort and you know it. Besides, I think it's time Elizabeth got to know her Uncle Eames." She places a cloth over one of Eames' shoulders and places Elizabeth against him. He holds her awkwardly in his large hands. Elizabeth turns her head towards him; grown man and baby proceed to have a staring contest with each other.

"There, see, Elizabeth likes you already." Ariadne stands back and watches, slightly amused at the fear in the forger's eyes. "Now, all you have to do is rub or pat her back until she gives a good, loud burp. I'll be back in a few minutes." Before she leaves, Ariadne coos at her daughter. "You be a good little girl for Uncle Eames, okay Elizabeth?"

"Wait! What if she starts to cry? Or wriggles out of my arms?"

Ariadne shakes her head. "She's not a slippery eel. And if she starts to cry, just bounce her around for a bit." And then, more tenderly, she says, "You're going to be fine, Eames. I'll be right back." And with that, Ariadne leaves the unlikely pair alone.

Eames has stared down fellow thieves, conmen, and some plain old crazy people in his life, but none of them have scared him as much as the little doe-eyed, two-month old in his arms.

"Okay, Elizabeth. I'm going to burp you now." Eames says all of this out loud, hoping that Elizabeth is cognizant enough to understand that they need to work together. "Do as your mummy says and be a good girl and don't do anything that will make me drop you." He hopes the unimpressed look Elizabeth gives him is not a challenge; she turns her head away before he can convince himself otherwise.

Contemplating whether to rub or pat her back as Ariadne instructed, Eames tentatively places his hand over Elizabeth's back, noting how it practically covers the whole surface. What if he patted too hard? Would he hurt her? He could try massaging her, like Ariadne did. But what if he massaged her back the wrong way?

As if sensing his indecision, Elizabeth starts to make a fuss. Panicking, Eames starts to pat her back as gently as he can. Elizabeth continues to fuss and fidget against him.

"Whoa, now." He's aware that he's addressing her like a horse, but he's too nervous to care. "Let's calm down Elizabeth. I'm new at this." He slightly increases the pressure of his pats.

"I don't know why your mum thought this would be a good idea. To be honest, I think motherhood has made her a little mental. But I suppose that happens when you push a little human out of your vag—uh, out of your body."

Eames gives Elizabeth a look, noticing that's she's stopped fidgeting. "Hmm. This isn't so bad. You follow direction very well for a baby. Probably your dad's influence, eh? I can see Arthur training you to be a little point girl already." Elizabeth lets out a little fart in response.

Eames chuckles and stops his patting, turning his head to look at her. "Do you not approve of being groomed into a point girl? Hmm, I can always teach you how to forge. To be honest, I think it's the more difficult of the two. " He drops the humor when she grabs the cloth at his shoulder with one fist and drops it on the ground. "What's that all about Elizabeth? Are we done here?" He considers whether his burping duties are over. "Your mum specifically said that you need to give a good, loud burp. We best continue with this. We don't want your mummy mad at me. Between you and me, she can be scarier than your dad."

Just as he's about to continue his patting, Elizabeth places her head on Eames' shoulder. At that moment something inside him melts a little and he instinctively starts rubbing gentle circles on her back without worrying if he's doing it properly or not. The warm little body and the rapid little heartbeat against his shoulder are both comforting and soothing and he dares to gently rest his cheek against her head.

"Aren't you a sweet thing? And tiny too. I don't know why I was so afraid of you. Don't tell your mum and dad I said that. That will be our little secret, okay Elizabeth?" He continues rubbing Elizabeth's back and talking to her. "You know what else? I'm not sure I like the name Elizabeth. I mean, it is a fine, elegant name and all, but you're much too tiny for such a mouthful of a name. Would you mind if I call you Lizzy, instead?" Elizabeth kicks one of her legs out. "Easy, now. Would you like that? You can be my little Lizzybell with your sweet little tooting farts—"

BURRRRRRRRRRRP!

Eames raises his cheek from Elizabeth's head in surprise and chuckles. "Good one, Lizzy! That was quite impressive." He moves Elizabeth slightly away from his shoulder to look at her. That's when he notices the milky spit-up on his shirt.

"Oh, Lizzy, look at the mess you made on my favorite shirt!" He holds her further away from him to further inspect the damage and Elizabeth starts to cry.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry Lizzy! I'm not mad at you. Please don't cry. Uncle Eames isn't mad." Elizabeth's cries intensify and Eames tries bouncing her on his arm like Ariadne suggested.

"Shhh, shhh. No, Lizzy, don't cry. We're getting along fabulously, aren't we? Please don't cry." He's about to yell for Ariadne when a foul smell wafts into his nostrils. He starts sniffing around for the source and then realizes it's coming from Elizabeth.

"Lizzy? Did you soil your nappie?" Elizabeth's face is red and scrunched up. Eames is pretty sure his is too. "Ugh! How can one so small produce such a smell? Ugh!"

"Eames, what's going on?"

Arthur walks into the nursery to find Eames holding his daughter out at arm's length and Elizabeth wailing at the top of her lungs.

"What's going on is that your daughter is assaulting me with every bodily function she's got. Here, take her."

Arthur reaches out and takes Elizabeth. "Don't worry sweetheart, daddy's here. Oh, you need to be changed."

"She needs to be soaked in rosewater is what she needs." Eames covers his nose with his arm. "You know, I never thought you could help create something that could produce such a foul, vile—"

The rest of his sentence is cut-off when Elizabeth lets loose one loud, ear-drum piercing wail.

"Good god! I'm sorry, Lizzy! I didn't mean that." Eames looks to Arthur, alarmed. "Is she okay? Should I call Ariadne?"

Arthur chuckles and calmly walks over to the changing table. "She's fine Eames. Elizabeth is just telling us she needs to be changed, and now. And calling Ariadne here won't do us any good." Arthur gently lays his unhappy daughter down on the table. "Shhh; it's okay Elizabeth, daddy's going to take care of you." He proceeds to roll up his shirt sleeves. "Ariadne's asleep on the couch and she'll kill the both of us if you wake her up just to ask her to change a diaper. Trust me; we don't need both of my girls screaming at us at the top of their lungs."

"So you're going to change Elizabeth's nappie?" Eames asks, horrified.

"Of course. Does that surprise you? Or do you want to do it?"

Eames grimaces at the suggestion and ignores Arthur's smug smirk.

"Let me tell you something I've learned about having a wife and a baby, Eames." Arthur removes the expensive time piece on his wrist and grabs a clean diaper, baby wipes, and baby powder from underneath the table. "You do not, I repeat, you do not ask your exhausted wife to change your baby's diaper for any reason short of both your arms being broken. Doing so will cause pain and suffering to your manhood, both in the figurative and literal sense of the word."

Eames shivers at the thought, but is fascinated with how expertly and efficiently Arthur removes the dirty diaper, cleans up Elizabeth, and attaches a new one.

"There now sweetheart, all freshened up." Arthur makes a move to dispose of the offending diaper and Eames gives him a wide berth. "Do me a favor and watch Elizabeth while I get rid of this and wash my hands."

Eames nods and walks over to the table where Elizabeth's cries have turned into little whimpers. "All better now, Lizzy?" The baby continues to whimper and he reaches down to tickle her little belly. Elizabeth reaches her own hand down and grasps onto his finger, causing the forger to laugh.

"I didn't mean to get upset with you for spitting up on my shirt. I'm sorry." He smiles when she looks directly at him. "It's just that this is my favorite shirt and—"

Elizabeth lets go of his finger and starts to fuss again.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He carefully picks her up off the table and lays her against his clean shoulder, bouncing her on his arm. "I can just throw it in the wash and it'll be good as new. No big deal. And no need to be upset."

Elizabeth calms and Eames sighs in relief. He continues to walk around the nursery bouncing Elizabeth against his shoulder for several minutes before Arthur finally returns.

"Thanks for getting her to fall asleep."

Eames turns at Arthur's whispered words. He takes a peek at the baby at his shoulder to confirm that Elizabeth has indeed fallen asleep. He gives Arthur a look that clearly says, "What do I do now?"

"Put her down in her crib."

Eames sees the little white crib in one corner of the room and walks over. He's unsure of how to set her down but luckily Arthur's there to guide him.

"Make sure you support her head with one hand. Good. And now support her bottom with the other. And now, easy…" Eames follows Arthur's instructions and lays Elizabeth down carefully onto her stomach. Arthur pulls a little yellow blanket up to cover her and then the two men stand by the crib, watching the soft rise and fall of her back.

"I can't believe you went and had a baby." Eames whispers, shaking his head and turning to Arthur. The point man is standing next to him with a goofy smile on his face. At any other time Eames may have poked fun at that smile, but he restrains himself and looks back to the baby in the crib. "And a girl at that. She's going to have you wrapped around her finger. I just know it."

Arthur looks up from adoring his little girl but instead of correcting Eames' prediction, smiles wider than before. "I know. But I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy it." He turns on the baby monitor before moving away from the crib and exiting the nursery. Eames follows suit.

"You're certain about that?"

"Absolutely. Just as I'm certain that I won't be the only one wrapped around her finger and loving every minute of it," Arthur says, as he heads towards his and Ariadne's bedroom.

"I think Ariadne's much too sensible to let that happen."

Arthur stops in front of a ridiculously enormous and fastidiously organized walk-in closet. "I'm not talking about Ariadne."

"You're not suggesting that _I'm_ going to be bowled over by a little baby, are you?"

"That's exactly what's going to happen. I'm certain of it." Eames stands by as he watches Arthur enter the closet.

"And here I thought you knew me better than that. I'll have you know I have never let anyone of the female persuasion wrap me around her finger. And a baby will be no exception." Eames throws in a smirk for good measure.

Arthur exits the closet with a shirt that he hands to Eames.

"What's this for?"

"Elizabeth spit-up all over your shirt. Not that I blame her. She has her father's tastes, after all." Arthur throws in a smirk of his own.

"It's just a little spit-up on my shoul—oh." Eames notices the large stain on his once previously clean shoulder. Elizabeth managed to soil both of them. "She must have done this when I was putting her to sleep." He smiles a little, remembering the feel of the soft little baby in his arms. The smile does not go unnoticed.

"What?" Eames asks, defensively.

Holding back a smile, Arthur says, "Nothing." He heads out of the bedroom.

"This doesn't mean anything."

Arthur stops and turns to face the forger, a knowing smile on his face. "No Eames, it means everything."


	2. Our Dear Uncle Ease

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Our Dear Uncle Ease<strong>

"Markham has a mistress. She'll know his secrets and she'll be easier to get to than Markham himself. That's who we go after."

Eames lazily watches Arthur shuffle through papers scattered over the living room coffee table. He's looking for his notebook with his notes on Markham's mistress.

Eames is lounging next to him on the sofa, hiding the notebook behind one of the throw pillows.

"His mistress won't know anything about the expansion project." Eames yawns loudly, making himself more comfortable by planting his feet up over the papers on the coffee table. "She's a mistress, not his chief financial officer."

"Actually, she is his chief financial officer and she's spearheading the project, so yes, she'll know everything about the project. I have all the information we need about her written down. Where is my damn notebook?" Arthur continues his search in his briefcase.

Yawning again, Eames clasps his hands behind his head. "No notebook, hmm? Looks like we'll have to plan out our strategy another time. Too bad." He says the last in a singsong voice, closing his eyes and fully relaxing on the sofa.

"Dada. Dadada."

Eames' light doze is interrupted by the childish babble. When he opens his eyes he finds Ariadne holding eight month old Elizabeth and a blue stuffed elephant. The baby is holding her binky in one hand while reaching out for Arthur with the other.

"Someone wants her daddy." Ariadne smiles as she walks towards her husband.

"Not now Ariadne darling, I'm beat." Eames closes his eyes again, smirking from the sofa.

"You wish, Eames." Ariadne rolls her eyes and hands Elizabeth over to Arthur.

"Dada! Dadada!"

"Hey, sweetheart." Arthur gives Elizabeth a kiss on the soft down of her hair. "What have you got there?"

Eames opens his eyes to find Elizabeth sitting on Arthur's lap, holding her binky out to him.

"Is this for me?" he asks.

"Dadadadadadada."

"What's that Lizzybell? You want your papa to shut his mouth so your Uncle Eames can take a nap?" Eames reaches over to tickle Elizabeth's tummy. "I agree with you completely. What an excellent idea." The little girl gives a wide, open mouth laugh and waves the binky around.

Arthur glares at him. "Elizabeth, why don't you give that binky to Uncle Eames? The only way he's going to have any peace and quiet around here is if he shuts his own big mouth."

"Now, now, boys." Ariadne cups her daughter's head and leans down to address her. "Elizabeth, can you do mommy a favor and make sure daddy and Uncle Eames behave themselves?"

Elizabeth looks up from examining Arthur's watch. "Mamama."

"That's right, mama knows best." Ariadne smiles and kisses her forehead. She sets the blue elephant down on the sofa in between the two men before addressing them. "You two behave yourselves in front of Elizabeth, okay? Arthur, don't get riled up by all the nonsense that comes out of Eames' mouth. Eames, no profanity in front of my daughter."

The two men open their mouths to argue but Ariadne, in true mother-mode, gives them a quelling look. Smiling smugly when they remain quiet, she leans down to give Arthur a kiss. "I'm going to be in my office, working on the designs for Markham."

"Mamama."

"Bye-bye sweetheart." Ariadne blows her daughter a kiss. Elizabeth raises an arm and opens and closes her little fist several times.

"Alright Elizabeth, you sit right here between me and your Uncle Eames." Arthur gives his daughter another kiss and sets her down on the sofa. "You can help daddy figure out this job since your Uncle Eames is determined to slack off today." He hands her the stuffed animal which she takes after putting her binky back in her mouth.

"Bababababa."

Eames returns to lounging. "Listen to your papa, Lizzybell. Your Uncle Eames had quite a night last night with a gorgeous, long-legged blonde. She was rather flexible and kept your Uncle Eames up all night. Now I'm exhausted."

"Eames! Not in front of my daughter, please."

Remaining in his relaxed pose, Eames shrugs. "What? I didn't use any profanity."

"Babies are very perceptible. She doesn't need to hear about your 'activities' at her age. It's not healthy." Arthur frowns, worried about what his daughter is hearing as he watches her examine her stuffed animal.

Eames chuckles. "Oh, stop being such a worrywart. She'll be fine." Looking at Elizabeth directly, he continues, "Besides, she's going to find out sooner or later that her Uncle Eames is quite the ladies man, right my Lizzybell?"

Elizabeth looks up at Eames and starts babbling through her binky again. "Babababababa." She waves the stuffed animal around by its trunk.

"Right. See? Lizzy doesn't care. Her babbling says it all."

"She's not babbling," Arthur insists. "Though unsophisticated, it's her way of communicating with us. She's very advanced for her age, you know."

"Oh, and I suppose you're fluent in baby-talk?" Eames smirks.

"Baba is her stuffed elephant. Dada is me, and mama is Ariadne. We're not deciphering hieroglyphs here."

"Babababababa." Elizabeth continues waving the elephant around until it flies out of her little hand and over the coffee table. When she starts to lean over the sofa to reach for it, Arthur restrains her by her shirt.

"No, no, Elizabeth. Uncle Eames will get your elephant."

"Since when did Uncle Eames become a servant?" Despite the comment he rises from the sofa to fetch the toy and hand it to the little girl.

"Here you go Lizzy, your baba." Elizabeth watches as Eames resumes his seat on the couch and gets comfortable before waving the toy around and letting it loose over the coffee table again.

"Babababa." She removes her binky, pointing it in the direction of the elephant, and stares at Eames with wide eyes.

"What is this, Lizzy?" He gets up from the sofa again and retrieves the tossed toy. When he hands it to her this time she doesn't even give him a chance to sit before she chucks the stuffed animal again, this time with a wide open smile that shows off the few baby teeth she has.

"Arthur, what kind of game is this?" Eames asks, bending down to pick up the toy again.

"It's not a game, Eames. It's called being wrapped around my daughter's finger," the point man says nonchalantly, behind a file he just picked up.

"Alright Lizzybell, that's the last time. Your Uncle Eames is not your lapdog." Elizabeth throws the stuffed animal again, this time farther than before. She lets out an enthusiastic laugh when she does.

But Eames holds his ground by sitting back down on the sofa.

"Baba."

He lounges back against the sofa cushions, refusing to crack under the pressure of her adorableness.

"Baba. Baba." Elizabeth crawls over on top of Eames to let him know without a doubt who is wrapped around whose finger. "Bababababa!"

"Alright Lizzy, alright! You win. I'll go get your baba!" He removes Elizabeth from him and places her back between him and Arthur. "And not one word from you." He points to Arthur, giving him a look before getting up to retrieve Elizabeth's toy again. Arthur doesn't say anything, but his smiles says it all.

When Eames does get out of his seat this time, Elizabeth crawls onto it and picks up the throw pillow, tossing it at him when he returns.

"Lizzy, you're not being a good girl like your mummy wanted," Eames warns.

Elizabeth snatches the black notebook that was hidden behind the pillow she threw. "Dada. Dadada." She holds up the notebook for Arthur to inspect.

"What's that you've got there, sweetheart?" Arthur asks. He takes the notebook from her. "Good job, Elizabeth, this is daddy's notebook. Look at that, you found where Uncle Eames has been hiding it all along. You've been more helpful to me on this job than your Uncles Eames has been." He kisses his daughter's cheek as she grabs her binky from the sofa and puts it back in her mouth.

Eames picks Elizabeth up and takes a seat back down on the sofa, setting Elizabeth on his lap, facing him. "Lizzybell, you ratted me out. That is not cool."

Elizabeth grabs her toy and holds it up to him. "Baba."

"No, Lizzy, you can't bribe me into forgiving you with your favorite toy."

Elizabeth removes her binky and holds it out to him.

"I'm sorry Lizzybell, despite what your condescending papa says, I refuse to be wrapped around your finger."

"Eames." Arthur warns.

"Ease."

Two sets of mouths drop as the little brown-haired cutie raises her arms and bounces up and down on Eames's lap.

"Ease. Ease, ease!"

"Do you hear that? She's saying my name!" Eames immediately forgets his annoyance with her and picks Elizabeth up to hold her closer to him. "Say it again, Lizzybell. Come on, say 'Uncle Eames'."

"Eeeeeease!" Elizabeth holds her binky up to Eames' face.

"Good girl!"

"I thought everything Elizabeth was saying is just her babbling?"

Eames ignores the smug note in Arthur's tone. "Of course she isn't babbling. She just said her favorite uncle's name. Lizzybell here is the smartest baby ever."

"Ease."

"That's right, my little Lizzybell is just the smartest little munchkin—mmph…Lizzy, stop that." Eames turns his head away from Elizabeth's attempts at putting her binky in his mouth.

"Ease…ease…eeeeeeeeeease!" Elizabeth intensifies her efforts to put the binky in his mouth.

"Arthur, help me out here." Eames continues to shake his head left and right to avoid Elizabeth's binky.

"Eeeeeeeease! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeease!" The little girl in his arms is becoming more agitated with her efforts, which can be heard in her tone.

Arthur picks up another file, seemingly unconcerned with his friend's predicament or his daughter's behavior. "I've got a lot of work here to do. I'm behind because someone hid my notebook." Arthur holds up the notebook and raises his brow.

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry I—mmph. Lizzy, no. Uncle Eames does not want your binky." Elizabeth is getting more persistent.

"Eeeeease." Elizabeth says forlornly when Eames grabs the offending binky out of her hand.

He starts to get a weird feeling in his stomach when he sees Elizabeth's bottom lip quiver and tears start to form in her brown eyes.

"Okay, okay! Here you go." Elizabeth takes the binky Eames proffers and immediately proceeds to put it in Eames' mouth.

"Eeeease!" She says happily, when Eames finally capitulates. "Ease, ease!"

"Okay, are you happy now Lizzybell?" When Eames removes the binky from his mouth Elizabeth immediately grabs it and holds it out to his mouth again. With a sigh, he puts the binky back in his mouth. "Apparently not."

Arthur sets his file down and takes Elizabeth from Eames. "Elizabeth, you _are_ the smartest little baby ever." He kisses both her chubby cheeks. "You've helped daddy out tremendously, today. You figured out how to quiet your Uncle Eames and let me do my work." Arthur chuckles when he sees the dirty look Eames gives him.

"Bababa." Arthur lets Elizabeth crawl off him to reach her stuffed elephant which she offers the now silenced Eames.

Eames takes it and says, "Thank you," around the binky still in place.

Having given away her binky and toy, Elizabeth crawls back to Arthur who picks her up and sets her on his lap.

"Are you just going to let me sit here like this?" Eames asks.

"It's not up to me, it's up to Elizabeth. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" The little girl re-examines Arthur's watch. He positions them so that he can read from his notebook and reads out loud to both Eames and Elizabeth, editing his language for his daughter's sake. "Ok, so according to my notes, Markham's 'lady friend'…

Half an hour later, Ariadne returns to a suspiciously quiet living room. "It's so quiet in here. I can't believe you two are actually…" Ariadne leaves off the rest of her sentence when she sees Eames fast asleep, snoring on the sofa next to Arthur and Elizabeth. He has Elizabeth's binky resting in his partially opened mouth. He's also cuddling her stuffed elephant.

"Mama. Mamama." Elizabeth spots Ariadne and reaches her arms out towards her.

"Should I even ask?" Ariadne walks over to the trio on the sofa.

Arthur laughs, rising with Elizabeth in his arms. Ariadne takes her from him. "Elizabeth found a way to quiet Eames," he tells her.

"I can see that. Well, he isn't the only one due for a nap. Come on Elizabeth, it's time for yours. I have another binky for you upstairs." She glances at Eames. "I don't think we'll be able to safely pry away your elephant from your Uncle Eames, though."

"Ease."

Ariadne stops in her tracks.

"Eeease."

"Did she just say…?"

"Yeah, she did. I think Eames may have worn himself out with the excitement of it." Arthur looks at the sleeping forger.

"You're not one to talk. You were practically ready to send her to Harvard when she first started saying 'dada'."

"I wasn't that bad."

Ariadne laughs. "Elizabeth, you've got both your daddy and Uncle Eames wrapped around your little finger, don't you? Say bye-bye to daddy."

Arthur gives his little girl a kiss.

"Now say bye-bye to Uncle Eames." Elizabeth raises her arm up and opens and closes her fist at her sleeping uncle. Mother and daughter then leave for the nursery.

With his hands in his pockets Arthur takes in the sight of Eames on the sofa. Sighing, he shakes his head and makes a move to grab a blanket from the other sofa, but at the last second thinks better of it.

He takes his cell phone out instead and snaps a picture. One can never have too many blackmail pictures.


	3. The Sexy Cowboy's Misunderstanding

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Sexy Cowboy's Misunderstanding<strong>

The chime of the doorbell and an enthusiastic 'Trick or treat!' has Ariadne rushing to the door with a bowl of assorted candies. When she opens it, instead of finding creatively clad little children holding plastic pumpkins out for candy, she finds an interestingly dressed Eames leaning against the doorframe.

"Howdy, ma'am."

"Well, what do we have here?" She gives him a look over. "I'm not sure we have the kind of treats you're looking for, sir." She steps aside to let him in. "Nor do I think are we interested in the kind of tricks you may be offering."

"What are you talking about? Don't you know what I am?"

Eames grins and turns in a circle with arms out wide to give her a better view of his 'costume'. Ariadne holds in her amusement as she takes in his Western-style shirt and jeans. Several of the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, revealing part of his expansive chest while a pair of the snuggest-fitting jeans she's ever seen him wear leaves nothing to the imagination. Completing the look is a leather vest, a pair of cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, and an old-fashion gun belt, minus the six-shooters.

"Gay cowboy?"

"Gay cowboy—no! I'm a _sexy_ cowboy. This is sexy." He gestures to his outfit. "You know how there are sexy nurses, sexy chambermaids, sexy what-have-you. I'm a sexy cowboy."

"I'm not sure it works that way, Eames. Women can get away with sexy outfits on Halloween. Men have to be more creative."

"Excuse me, but I can pull off sexy." When Ariadne continues to hold in her laughter, he continues. "Which is more than I can say for you. What are you supposed to be in that dress? A virginal maid?"

She laughs out loud at his teasing and fans out her calico skirt around her. "No, I'm wearing an old-fashion prairie style dress. I'm a farmer's wife."

This news seems to delight Eames. "Farmer's wife? That would make Arthur—

"The farmer. Yes, your deduction skills are impressive, Eames."

Eames turns in anticipation of the point man turned farmer. He is not disappointed.

Arthur enters the living room in a pair of denim overalls complete with several strands of hay sticking out of the top pocket, a bandana around his neck made from the same calico print as Ariadne's dress, and a straw hat. Despite the enjoyment Eames gets from this less than pristine version of the point man, he refrains from commenting on the attire when he sees the cute little pumpkin his friend is carrying—a cute pumpkin that lights up when she sees him.

"Eames!"

Little two year-old Elizabeth reaches out to him with her orange clad arms. She's wearing a stuffed pumpkin costume that's pinned with a blue prize ribbon. Her green tights, pair of green-dyed Mary Jane shoes, and little pumpkin stem hat complete the look.

"Where's my Lizzybell?" he asks as he takes her from Arthur.

"Here!" The little girl points to herself, making Eames chuckle.

"Is this round orange ball my Lizzybell?"

"Pumkin." Elizabeth shows him the ribbon attached to her costume.

"What's this ribbon you've got pinned on you?" He examines the ribbon more closely. "'First place, most adorable'. Well, isn't this sickeningly cute." Eames looks to Elizabeth, and then to Arthur and Ariadne standing together in their strange picture of domestic country life.

"Don't you get it?" Ariadne asks, as he sets Elizabeth down on the floor. "We're pumpkin farmers. And Elizabeth is our prize-winning pumpkin. Isn't that right sweetheart?"

Elizabeth ignores her and heads to the sofa for her own little plastic pumpkin. The stuffing in her costume rounds her out into her pumpkin shape, but also makes her waddle in slow steps.

"Arthur, you put too much stuffing. She can barely walk." Ariadne tries to examine Elizabeth's costume, but the little girl resists and makes her way over to Eames.

"Twickotree!"

Arthur shrugs. "The waddling would be appropriate if you agreed to my suggestion of us dressing up in a Star Wars theme. I could have been Han Solo to your Princess Leia and Elizabeth would have made a cute little waddling Ewok."

"Maybe Ariadne's refusal has to do with the fact that she knows I'd make a better Han Solo than you ever could," Eames replies cheekily as he bends down to tweak Elizabeth's nose, making the girl giggle and swat at his hand.

"No, I refused because I wasn't going to take Elizabeth out trick-or-treating wearing nothing but a metal bikini." She picks Elizabeth up. "Come on, Elizabeth, I'm going to fix your costume."

"Now I understand why you chose Jedi and not Empire," Eames comments with a smirk at Arthur. "Ariadne in that metal bikini is not a bad fantasy to have."

"She said no to wearing it _while_ trick-or-treating. I have high hopes that she'll change her mind later tonight."

Eames rolls his eyes. "Well, I still say I'd make a better Solo than you. I've got much more swagger." He imitates a classic John Wayne strut, tipping his hat back slightly to expose his smirk even further.

"Well, I will admit that I wouldn't mind seeing you in a permanent carbonite freeze."

"Okay, Elizabeth's ready to go trick-or-treating." Ariadne interrupts the two men in their banter, carrying a less stuffing-filled Elizabeth. "Eames, do you want to come with us?"

"Hmm, I have a very sexy Halloween party I'm going to, but…how many opportunities does one get to watch Arthur walk around in public like a country bumpkin? Yes, I'll go trick-or-treating with you."

"Good. And don't worry; you'll have plenty of time to get to your sexy Halloween party. We're only going out for an hour. Arthur insists that we get back early to hand out candy because he thinks the trick-or-treaters will egg and TP our house if we don't."

"Gotta protect the homestead. I hear ya." Eames wraps his arm around Arthur's shoulders and gives his best drawl. "Don't worry little lady, I keep the law around here. No one will mess with ya if Sheriff Eames is around."

Arthur shrugs off his arm. "Sheriff Eames? You're not a gay cowboy?"

"Sexy cowboy! I'm a sexy cowboy."

"Sessy!" Elizabeth dimples, pointing at her Uncle Eames.

"That's right Lizzybell." He takes her from Ariadne and heads out the door. "I'm sexy and _we_ know it."

The combination of adorable little pumpkin, proud farmer parents, and one questionably dressed cowboy turns out to be a big hit—albeit a bit confusing—with all the neighbors.

But after an hour of going from house to house, two costume issues arise.

"Ugh! I don't know what Nancy Sinatra was singing about, but these boots were not made for walking." Eames bends down to remove his boots.

"Shoe." Elizabeth, taking a cue from Eames, reaches down to try to remove her own shoes. She loses her balance and falls on her adequately stuffed behind. When she reaches for her feet, she only has on one shoe.

"Where's your other shoe, Elizabeth?" Ariadne points her flashlight here and there but there's no sign of the other miniature green Mary Jane.

"Arthur, we have to find her other shoe."

"It's fine, Ariadne. We should head back home anyway and get to the trick-or-treaters. I'll carry Elizabeth home."

"But I didn't get to take any pictures of Elizabeth in her full costume. We have to find her other shoe."

"She looks just as cute without the shoes. Now, come on, we should—

Arthur cuts off when Ariadne leans into him to whisper something into his ear.

"Really?" He asks a sudden smile appearing on his face.

"We have to find the shoe first." Ariadne smiles.

"Eames, would you mind watching Elizabeth while we look for her shoe?" Suddenly interested in finding his daughter's missing shoe, he doesn't wait for the forger to respond. "And don't give Elizabeth any candy!" he manages to yell before tugging Ariadne away.

Watching the couple hurry away, he picks Elizabeth up off the ground. "Come, Lizzybell. Your Uncle Eames' dogs are barkin'."

"Doggy! Ruff! Ruff!" Elizabeth waves her single green shoe.

Chuckling, Eames crosses the street to a small children's park and gratefully seats him and Elizabeth on a park bench.

"Ahh, that's much better," Eames sighs as he lounges back on the bench and rests his feet in front of him. Beside him, Elizabeth has forgotten her shoe in favor of her candy-filled pumpkin.

"You've brought in quite the haul, haven't you? Let's see what your adorableness has gotten us, hmm? I know your daddy said no candy, but I don't think one will hurt." Eames digs through the pumpkin examining the various sweet treats and pulls out a red lollipop. "How about this, Lizzybell? Do you want a lollipop?"

Elizabeth reaches out to grab the candy, but Eames holds it out of reach.

"Now, pet. I have to examine it first. Make sure it hasn't been tainted. It doesn't look tampered with," he says as he examines the wrapping. "Let's see how it tastes."

Unwrapping the sweet, Eames takes a lick. "Mmm, cherry lollipop." He looks over to Elizabeth who is eagerly examining the candy. "Would you like to try the lollipop?" Eames puts it back into his mouth.

"Mine." Elizabeth reaches her arms out, her hands making grabbing motions.

Eames laughs. "Okay, it is your candy after all. Here you go. One lollipop for my Lizzybell."

Elizabeth takes the candy and enthusiastically licks it. After a few licks, she holds it up and declares, "Pop."

Eames makes a move to remove it from her hand, but Elizabeth keeps it away from him.

"She's adorable."

Eames looks up to find a beautiful blonde standing next to their bench, smiling down at Elizabeth.

"Thank you, she takes after me," he smiles, cheekily.

The woman laughs and asks, "Would you mind if I sit?" She points to the empty space next to Elizabeth. "I've been trick-or-treating with my nephew for almost two hours now, and my feet are feeling it." A little boy dressed as Buzz Lightyear and no more than eight years old, takes a seat on the grass in front of them and checks out his haul.

"Be my guest. Lizzybell and I are just taking a break ourselves. Aren't we Lizzy?"

"Pop." The little girl removes her lollipop long enough for that one word before sticking it back into her mouth. Having caught sight of the little boy, she climbs down the bench and bends down to watch the little boy count his candies.

"Lizzy bell. That's an interesting name."

"It's my nickname for her. Her full name is Elizabeth, but I think Lizzybell suits her. She's my little darling."

"That's so sweet." The woman leans forward. "I'm Denise, by the way."

"Nice to meet you Denise. My friends call me Eames, but you can call me Sheriff Eames." He smiles and touches the brim of his cowboy hat.

She laughs again. "Nice to meet you, too, Sheriff Eames. I like your costume."

"Thank you, ma'am," he does his best Texas drawl.

She smiles. "It actually matches mine."

Eames examines her jeans and sweater. "Okay, you've got me. How exactly do we match?"

"No, I'm not wearing it now. I've got a cowgirl outfit at home. I'm going to a party later tonight and that's what I'm wearing."

Eames raises his brows, impressed. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's actually…a pretty sexy outfit. Too sexy to wear while taking my nephew around trick-or-treating."

"That hasn't stopped me." Eames dares a wink.

"No, it hasn't, has it?" She blatantly checks him out. "Look, I know this is probably a long shot, and we've only just met, but if you find yourself available later tonight, maybe you'd like to come to this party?" She looks over to the children examining their candy. "But I'd completely understand if you can't because of Lizzy—

"No, no. I'd love to." He reigns his enthusiasm in when she raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean, I think I can find a sitter for Elizabeth. Actually, I know I can."

"Great. Here's my card. Give me a call and I'll—

"Pop. Pop." Elizabeth chooses that moment to interrupt, looking to Eames with childish distress.

"What is it Lizzybell? You want your pop?" Eames sits her on his lap.

"Pop."

"Okay, I found Elizabeth's shoe. Come here, sweetheart."

"Daddy!" Elizabeth removes herself from Eames and runs to Arthur, who suddenly appears with a miniature green shoe. He bends down to pick his daughter up.

"Elizabeth, why are you so sticky?" Arthur examines the red stains all over his daughter's hands and mouth. "Eames, did you give Elizabeth candy?"

"Just one."

"You deliberately ignored my instructions. I don't know why bother anymore with—

"Arthur, we'll talk about it later." Eames manages through clenched teeth as he shakes his head toward Denise.

"Pop!" Elizabeth struggles out of Arthur's arms, trying to get to Eames. "Pop. Pop."

Meanwhile, Denise, who has sat through the little scene, rises from her seat. "Uh, I think I better go."

"No! Wait! What about the party? We match, remember?" He smile falters when Denise backs away from him, looking disgusted.

"I can't believe you're asking to go to a party with me when your partner is standing right there." She points to Arthur, whose shock makes him let go of Elizabeth. The little girl runs to Eames.

"Pop!" She tugs at Eames' jeans, raising her arms to be lifted. He bends down to pick her up.

"No, Denise, you don't understand. Arthur and I…we're not…we…" He's at a loss for words, stupefied by her assumption. "Elizabeth is not my daughter, she's Arthur. Go on, tell her." Eames pleads with Arthur.

Arthur, being the sharp point man that he is, quickly comes to an understanding about the situation—and gears up for the best lie of his life.

"Eames, how can you say that while holding our baby? I thought you wanted to raise Elizabeth together."

Eames covers Elizabeth's ears before hissing, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I know we're having some problems and that you don't…love me like you used to," Arthur digs deep to get his bottom lip to quiver, "but can't you find it in your heart to try a little? For Elizabeth's sake?"

"Jeremy, come on, honey. We have to go." Denise grabs her nephew's hand and then walks over to Arthur. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I know his outfit should have given it away, but I sometimes don't have a good radar for these things. Again, I am so sorry." She practically yanks her nephew's arm as she drags him away.

Eames watches her go with a groan. When he turns back, Arthur has a big grin on his face.

"You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"That's payback for giving Elizabeth candy." He walks over and plucks a sticky red lollipop off of the back of Elizabeth's costume.

"Pop!" She tries to grab it from Arthur's hand.

"And you, Lizzybell. You did not help matters. I should have never given you this lollipop." He takes it from Arthur and sticks it into his mouth in a huff.

"Pop. Pop!"

Eames sighs and hands the candy to her. "Well, I've still got my party to go to tonight. Although, I'm rethinking this sexy cowboy outfit. Hey, can I borrow your Han Solo costume?"

"No."

"Oh, come, on! It's the least you can do considering that stunt you pulled."

"I'm going to be wearing it later."

"I thought we were done trick-or-treating?"

Arthur clears his throat once before smirking. "I won't be wearing it for trick-or-treating."

"Then why can't I—oooh." Eames scrunches his face in realization of the costume's future use. "I have a feeling I know what Ariadne said to you to make you so eager to find Elizabeth's shoe."

Arthur nods. "Now, hurry up. Ariadne's waiting back at home."

Eames purposefully slows his steps. "What do you think, Lizzybell? Are you ready for a little baby brother Luke or sister Leia? Because I'm pretty sure your mummy and daddy are going to be working very hard tonight to give you one or the other."

"Sessy Eames." Elizabeth holds out her lollipop to him.

He gives her a kiss on one sticky cheek and takes a lick of the lollipop. "You get me, Lizzybell. You really get me."


	4. The Doctor Is In The House

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: The Doctor Is In The House<strong>

"Good god! Are you alright?"

The last thing Eames is expecting when the front door of Arthur and Ariadne's home opens is a heavily bandaged Arthur. He has a butterfly bandage on his left cheek and gauze wrapped around both his arms and around his head.

"No, I'm not alright. According to my doctor, I'm very sick. Come on in." Not seemingly worried about his diagnosis, Arthur gestures for Eames to enter.

Eames follows Arthur through the foyer. "What happened? Did Nelson's men get to you? I thought you said that job couldn't be traced back to us."

"No, this isn't from the job. My doctor will explain everything."

"Your doctor? What's going on?"

Arthur leads a confused Eames into his living room, or rather, what was once his living room. The room is currently occupied by a colorful array of stuffed animals and dolls with what appear to be different levels of injury. Gauze bandages are wrapped—triple wrapped, even—around fuzzy limbs and heads. On the coffee table, Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy are wearing matching splints.

Sitting amidst the chaos of wounded toys, he spies Arthur's pint-sized doctor wearing a miniature lab coat complete with stethoscope in her ears. She's listening to the heartbeat of her latest patient, a plushy giraffe.

"Uncle Eames!" Three year old Elizabeth spots him and runs over. Despite repeated coaxing, she has refused to call him by his real name, preferring instead to address him as Eames.

"Lizzybell!" Even with a running start, Eames anticipates the little whirlwind crashing into him by bending down to capture her in his arms for a hug and a kiss.

"Doctor, see?" she asks, showing him her stethoscope as he lifts her up.

"You sure are." Turning to Arthur, he asks, "Is this a real stethoscope?"

"Of course. Just because she's playing pretend doesn't mean she has to use pretend instruments."

Eames raises his brow. "And this white coat with 'Elizabeth J. Hamilton, MD' embroidered on it?"

"Custom-made."

Eames shakes his head. "Lizzy, have you diagnosed your papa as completely insane yet?"

He sets her down when she starts squirming out of his arms. "Come here, Uncle Eames." She reaches up and grabs his hand to drag him through the parade of patients lying all over the floor.

"Sit here," she orders him, patting the sofa cushion. He takes a seat while she runs back to Arthur, reaching up and grabbing his hand to drag him to the other sofa.

"Daddy, lie down." Obeying his doctor's orders, Arthur lies back on the sofa. As soon as he's settled, Elizabeth places her stethoscope on his head and listens. "Head hurt?" she asks him. Arthur nods and Elizabeth reaches up on tip-toe to place a kiss on Arthur's forehead. "Feel better Daddy."

"Thank you sweetheart."

Leaving her patient, she heads back to Eames and announces, "Uncle Eames sick." Eames looks over at Arthur who gestures to his own stomach before pointing to his.

"Uhh, yes, Dr. Lizzy, I am sick. I think I have a tummy ache."

Elizabeth reaches into her monogrammed doctor's bag and pulls out a tongue depressor. Climbing onto the sofa next to Eames, she says, "Say 'Ahhh'."

Eames opens his mouth and lets Elizabeth lay the stick in his mouth. When he says, "ah," Elizabeth scrunches her nose, waving at the air in front of her face.

"Stinky."

Arthur's chuckles can be heard from his position on the sofa.

"Well, now Lizzy hold on a minute, I just had lunch and I—"

"Lie down." Elizabeth interrupts, climbing off the sofa. When he does, she places the stethoscope over his belly button. After listening carefully, she moves to the coffee table where she reaches into a bowl. "Medicine, Uncle Eames. Here." She drops a fist-full of Cheerios into his hand.

"Maybe you should offer him a mint, sweetheart." Arthur calls from the sofa.

"Oh, why thank you Dr. Lizzy." He gives Arthur a dirty look as he stuffs the Cheerios into his mouth before reaching down to tweak Elizabeth's nose.

Giggling, she swats his hand away and reaches for a plastic cup with a picture of Mickey Mouse on it that's also on the coffee table. "More medicine." she offers him the cup.

Eames eyes the amber liquid before taking a sip and letting the apple juice wash down the dry cereal. "Thank you Dr. Lizzy, I feel much better."

According to Elizabeth, however, he isn't. Reaching into her doctor's bag, she pulls out a large roll of gauze that she hands him while she climbs up next to him on the sofa again. "Bandage for owie." She takes the gauze from him and begins to unwind it.

"Oh, is that what I have? An owie? I'm not familiar with these medical terms, Lizzybell," Eames says, tongue-in-cheek.

She hands Eames the start of the unrolled gauze, pointing to his stomach. "Bandage for owie."

"You want me to bandage my own owie? Okay, but I'm starting to question your medical training Lizzybell." Eames wraps the gauze around his stomach, using up the whole roll. At that point Elizabeth climbs back down the sofa to reach back into her bag, pulling out another roll of gauze.

"More." She hands Eames the second roll.

"More bandages? Are you sure about that Lizzy?"

"More."

Shrugging, he takes the gauze and starts to wrap again. "Did you buy stock in gauze or something? Where did all of this come from?" he asks Arthur.

"I have a connection to a medical supplies company."

"Of course you do." Eames finishes up with the second roll. "There. How does that look, Lizzy?"

The little girl reaches into her bag again and pulls out a third roll.

"Oh no, Lizzy, that's quite enough." She starts to unwind the roll. "Lizzybell, no more bandages. Uncle Eames is starting to feel like a mummy."

"Mommy and baby sleeping. Shhhhhh." She places her finger over her lips. Then she hands him the third roll of gauze. "For owie."

Sighing, he takes the roll and wraps it over the other two layers of gauze.

Satisfied with her patient's obedience, Elizabeth heads back to Arthur.

"Daddy better?"

Arthur shakes his head. "Daddy's head still hurts."

On tip-toe again, Elizabeth gives Arthur's forehead another kiss. Then she grabs her stuffed elephant from the floor and hands it to him. "Ellie make Daddy better."

"Why are you getting kisses and stuffed animals while I'm over here eating dry cereal and mummifying myself?" Eames complains.

"It might have to do with the fact that she went to 'Arthur's School of Medical Training'. You see, my little doctor was taught that headaches get treated with kisses while stomach aches get yards of gauze."

"Is that why you pointed to my stomach?" At Arthur's smug smile, Eames mouths, 'You bastard'.

"Uncle Eames." He turns to see Elizabeth has snuck up on him with a syringe. Unlike the rest of her medical accoutrements, this one is fake and made out of plastic. Eames can't help but be grateful. "Vasnation." She holds up the syringe for his inspection.

"Am I getting a vaccination now? I must have been sicker than I thought, Dr. Lizzy."

"Vasnation here, Uncle Eames." Elizabeth points to his shoulder. "Don't move. Be good boy. Won't hurt."

Sighing, Eames stays still, resigned to being a 'good boy' like his doctor asked, and lets Elizabeth give him his shot.

With one hand on the balustrade while the other supports her ever expanding stomach, Ariadne gingerly makes her way down the stairs. The last thing she remembers before taking her nap was that Arthur, Elizabeth, and an army of sick toys were in the living room playing doctor, a scene she's grown accustomed to these last couple of weeks.

After reaching the bottom of the stairs, she heads to the living room and is greeted with the sight of her husband looking rather content while lounging on the sofa with gauze wrapped around his head while Ellie the elephant, Georgie the giraffe, and Mrs. Buttercup all keep him company. The sight makes her smile until she turns to the other sofa and sees Eames lying on it, completely bandaged from the neck down with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. Beside him on the floor is Elizabeth, feeding Harry the Hippo some Cheerios.

"Were you hit by a bus on your way here, Eames?"

Hearing Ariadne's voice, Eames struggles to sit up, but is hampered by the copious amount of gauze wrapped around him. "Apparently, according to my doctor."

"Mommy!" Elizabeth runs to her mother, reaching out her hand to guide Ariadne over to Arthur, who makes room next to him by relocating his stuffed companions to the floor. Elizabeth releases her hand to grab a pillow from the floor, setting it against the sofa's cushions. "Mommy and baby sit down. Rest here." She pats the seat next to Arthur.

Ariadne chuckles and carefully lowers herself down, trying to get comfortable.

"Thank you Elizabeth."

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asks, gently.

"You look about ready to pop," Eames adds, bluntly. He has finally righted himself on the sofa and is suspiciously eying her protruding stomach.

Ariadne laughs. "I hope not, I'm not due for a couple more weeks." Turning to Arthur, she smiles and says, "I'm fine. I think I may be doing better than you, in fact." She gestures to his bandaged head. "Another 'headache'?"

"Daddy hurt head," Elizabeth clarifies for her.

"I can see that. Did you give Daddy kisses to make him feel better?"

"Yeah, a lot." Elizabeth nods fervently, making her smile.

"This is the third headache you've had this week. It's very persistent, isn't it?" she asks her husband.

"It is. But it's my favorite ailment."

"Well, how about if we see if Mommy's kisses will make you feel better." Smiling, Ariadne leans over to give him a kiss.

"Oooooooohhh! Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhh!"

Arthur and Ariadne break apart when they hear the tortured moaning of Eames on the other sofa.

"Uncle Eames!" Elizabeth scampers over, a look of childish concern on her face. "Uncle Eames, hurt?"

Eames has resumed his supine position on the sofa, one arm dramatically thrown over his forehead. "Yes Lizzybell. Your Uncle Eames' head hurts from having to witness the nauseating display of your parents."

"Then shouldn't it be your tummy that hurts?" Arthur asks in mock innocence. Eames throws him a dirty look.

Elizabeth frowns, confused. "Uncle Eames hurt tummy?"

"No!" Eames lowers his voice when the little girl startles. "I mean no, Lizzybell. Your Uncle Eames' tummy doesn't hurt anymore. You fixed it, remember?" He points to his triple gauze-wrapped stomach. "Uncle Eames' head hurts, like Daddy's."

"Head hurt like Daddy's?"

"Yes, my head hurts just like Daddy's."

"Why is he making such a big deal out of this?" Ariadne asks Arthur.

Amused, Arthur wraps his arm around his wife, watching the scene on the other sofa unfold. "I think it's because all the gauze is cutting off circulation to his brain. Either that, or he's tired of eating Cheerios."

The two watch as their daughter reaches up on tip-toe and places a kiss on Eames forehead before collecting Harry the Hippo off the floor to hand to Eames.

The triumphant smile on Eames face is a sight to behold.

"Feel better Uncle Eames."

"He already does, Lizzybell. He already does."


	5. Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Santa Claus Is Coming To Town…With Flamethrowers<strong>

Arthur sees a flash of red from a man running outside one of his kitchen windows and immediately goes into protection mode. He nonchalantly excuses himself from his family's Christmas cookie festivities and heads to his office and the hidden safe that contains his unloaded gun. He finishes loading it just as the doorbell rings. He's relieved to hear Ariadne yell for him to answer the door. If his suspicion of the unexpected caller is correct, he doesn't want his family anywhere near the front door.

Cautiously approaching it, he immediately confirms a man in red through the glass panes set in the door.

"Who is it?" he yells, gun held at the ready.

"Arthur, open the bloody door, I'm freezing my arse off out here!"

With a sigh of relief and exasperation at the recognition of the familiar voice, Arthur reluctantly puts the safety back on his gun and opens the door.

Barely recognizable in full Santa costume and facial hair, Eames enters the house.

"Eames! What were you doing sneaking around my house? I thought you were a thug. I could've killed you!"

Eames eyes the gun and raises his brow at Arthur. "That's no way to greet Santa."

Arthur quickly stuffs the gun behind his back into his pants and under his sweater. With Eames around, he's not completely convinced he won't need a gun. "What are you doing here dressed like that?"

"Can I not visit my friends dressed as Santa? Where's your holiday spirit?"

He follows Arthur into the living room. The point man frowns at him. "I thought you were going to spend the holidays in Fiji with Monique."

Eames sighs. "I was, but once we hit the tropics she decided to show her true colors. Turns out she's nothing but a…ho, ho, ho!" he finishes when he sees Elizabeth appear. "Merry Christmas!"

"Santa!" Elizabeth runs over, a cookie in hand.

Ariadne, carrying five month old David, wonders what is going on.

"Mommy, Santa's here! Santa's here!"

"Santa…what are you doing here?" Ariadne looks to her husband, obviously confused as to what is going on and who is posing as Santa. Arthur rolls his eyes and she immediately understands. "Oh! _Santa_! But I thought you were in Fiji."

Keeping up his booming Santa voice, Eames responds with, "I was, but when Monique—uh, that is, —became a little too friendly with the local…elves, I decided to leave her to her own devices and come here. Besides," he walks over to Ariadne, "it's been a while and I haven't yet been introduced to this little guy."

Eames reaches out to shake David's hand. "Hiya David, I'm your Uncle—" he pauses and looks down at Elizabeth staring up at him, "—Santa Claus," he finishes.

"Would you like to hold him, Santa?" Ariadne transfers David into his arms. "You've gotten very comfortable with that."

"With what?" Eames proceeds to make funny faces at David. The baby stares wide-eyed at him.

"With holding a baby." Ariadne smiles.

Eames takes a seat on the sofa, adjusting David on his lap. He watches Elizabeth stick her half eaten cookie in her mouth and proceed to climb up on the sofa to sit next to him. Once settled, she takes a bite of the cookie and leans into him. A smile of his own spreads across his face. "Well, I've put in a lot of practice." He playfully tugs on one of the girl's pigtails, causing her to giggle.

"You know what I think? I think that maybe you're ready for your own."

Eames stares down at the baby in his lap, awed and humbled by the little person trusting him in his care. He's reminded of the first time he held Elizabeth, and how right it felt to hold such precious life in his arms.

David reaches up to grab his beard and Eames pretends to bite his finger. When David smiles back, Eames can't help but wonder if Ariadne is right.

"Santa, is Rudolph outside?" Elizabeth asks, cookie crumbs lining her mouth.

"No, little Elizabeth, Rudolph and the other reindeer are special and only pull my sleigh on Christmas Eve." The little boy continues to reach for his beard and mouth, distracting Eames from Elizabeth's questions.

"What reindeer pulled your sleigh here?" the curious four year old asks.

"Hmm? Well, uh…the everyday reindeer, of course."

"What are their names?"

"Their names?" David has lost interest in their little game and begins to fidget in his lap. "Uh, well, let's see. There's, uh…Bingo, and, uh, Ringo and…John, Paul, and George."

"Well, what do you know? A Beatles powered sleigh," Ariadne comments, amused.

"Mommy, beetles are too small to pull Santa's sleigh." Then, turning back to Eames, Elizabeth asks, "Can I see them?"

"I'm afraid not Elizabeth. They're shy and afraid of strangers."

David's fidgeting pulls his attention back to the little boy. "What is it David? Do you want to tell Santa what you want for Christmas?"

"David can't talk yet, Santa." Elizabeth stuffs the last bite of cookie into her mouth. "He's too little."

"Well, I bet I can guess what he wants." Eames addresses the boy. "Would you like a new toy?" The baby continues to fidget on his lap. "How about a new binky?" David starts to look around the room, seemingly uninterested. "I know. I bet you'd like your Uncle Eames to come and visit you and your sister this Christmas." The five-month old turns to look at Eames. "Would you like Santa to bring you your Uncle Eames?" David graces him with a smile. Excited, Eames holds the baby up high. "I think you do. Well, Uncle Eames for Christmas it is!"

Feeling triumphant, Eames continues to coo over David until a familiar smell assaults his nostrils. He eyes the little boy suspiciously until he's certain he can confirm the smell and the source. "Oh, David! What have I ever done to you?"

"What's going on?" Arthur re-enters the living room, having left some time ago to put the gun away.

"David's telling us what he thinks of the news that Uncle Eames is coming for a visit." Ariadne jokes, taking David from Eames' outstretched arms.

"Santa's gonna bring Uncle Eames for Christmas, Daddy!" Elizabeth exclaims excitedly through her pinched nose. "And David went potty."

"So Santa said he'd bring Uncle Eames for Christmas and David's reaction was to go potty? That sounds about right." Arthur takes hold of his son from Ariadne and kisses the boy. "You are your father's son." He walks out of the living room to change David, praising the baby's instincts and ignoring Eames' dirty looks.

"Well, it looks like it's Elizabeth's turn to tell Santa what she wants." He pulls the little girl onto his lap. "Just no going potty on Santa, okay?"

The little girl nods. "I go potty in the bathroom."

Eames is satisfied. "Good. Now what does my little Lizzy—uh, Elizabeth, want?"

"I told you what I wanted, Santa. Me and Daddy wrote you a letter. Did you get it?"

Eames looks to Ariadne for help, but she doesn't have an immediate answer.

"Well, uh, I didn't—

"You didn't get my letter 'cause I was naughty?"

The sad puppy dog eyes she directs his way melts his heart and he nearly gives his up his ruse. "Naughty? Was my Lizzy—uh, Elizabeth, were you naughty?"

She looks to her mother before she hangs her head and confesses, "I got some time-outs."

"Time-outs? Is that all?" He laughs. "Well, that's okay! Even the nice children are allowed some time-outs. They still get presents." He looks up, uncertain if Santa's rules are really this lax and whether Arthur and Ariadne agree with this sentiment. "Right?"

"Santa's right, Elizabeth," Ariadne smiles. "A few time-outs doesn't mean you end up on Santa's naughty list."

"There, see?" Eames smiles when Elizabeth's face looks relieved. "And I'm sure that whatever you did to get a time-out was not so very bad."

"I played with Mommy's buildings and they broke. They were for a 'portant client," Elizabeth volunteers.

"Oh, well, that was just an accident," Eames assures.

"And one time-out I got was when I broke Daddy's laptop 'cause I was running in the house when I'm not s'pose to."

"Oh, well, that was also an accid—

"And another time out was when I drawed on David."

"You drew on your brother?"

"Yeah, to make him strong, like my Uncle Eames. He has drawings on his arms and Uncle Eames said the drawings make him strong."

"Oh, that's right, Elizabeth. I'm glad you reminded me." Ariadne glares at Eames. "It was very difficult removing _indelible_ black ink off my son's face and arms, Santa. It took three days for it all to come off completely."

"Mommy's gonna put Uncle Eames in time-out when she sees him," Elizabeth adds.

"Well, too bad he's not here," Eames laughs a little nervously. He doesn't think grown-up time-out is the same as children time-out. "Okay, that's enough about Elizabeth's time-outs and who influenced her to misbehave. Tell Santa what you wrote in your letter. Did you want a new doll? Or maybe a pretty new dress?"

"No. I want a dragon."

"A dragon?"

"Yeah. Two dragons."

"Two dragons?"

The little girl nods enthusiastically. "And the dragons have to breathe fire from their mouths and can fly all the way to the sun. And they have to be good dragons and let me pet them. But they also have to be mean to the bad people."

Eames raises his bushy white eyebrows. "That is quite the dragon requirement list. Now, are you sure you need two dragons, Elizabeth? Because Santa has to be honest with you, it may be difficult to find one dragon like the way you want, let alone two. They're very hard to find."

The girl bites her bottom lip and furrows her little brow. The gesture is so much part Ariadne and part Arthur that Eames has to hide a smile.

"Umm. Well, one is okay. I'll give that one to my Uncle Eames."

"You're going to give your dragon to your Uncle Eames?"

"Uh-huh, so it can protect him."

Eames drops his Santa voice, but neither he nor Elizabeth seem to notice. Gently, he asks, "Do you think your Uncle Eames needs a dragon to protect him?"

"Yeah, 'cause Uncle Eames doesn't have anyone to protect him from the strangers and the bad people and I don't want him to be hurt."

"You don't want your Uncle Eames to be hurt." Eames can feel the emotions bubbling up inside.

Elizabeth shakes her head. "No, I don't want my Uncle Eames to be hurt. Uncle Eames is my family and Mommy and Daddy said we have to love our family and take care of them."

Unable to hold back, Eames hugs the girl close. "You're a very good girl, Elizabeth. You're number one on Santa's nice children list and in Santa's heart."

"Santa, you're hugging too hard." The little girl squirms out of his arms. She reaches up to point to his eyes. "Are you gonna cry?"

"No." Eames sniffles and quickly blinks the emotion away. "Santa's just a little hungry. You know what he needs? He needs some cookies. Can you go get Santa some cookies?"

"Okay!" Elizabeth jumps off his lap and runs to the kitchen.

"Are you okay, Eames?" Ariadne asks.

"What? Oh, yeah, yeah." He gets up off the sofa. "Now where is that damn husband of yours? Letting Lizzy ask for dragons—he's insane, totally wrapped around that little girl's finger," he mumbles and then points towards the kitchen. "And you better believe I'm not going to disappoint that little girl by not providing her with her dragons." He walks to the base of the staircase and yells, "Arthur!"

"Eames, we both know that Arthur has many resources and connections, but even he can't procure a dragon for you."

Eames waves her off. "He may not be able to, but I can. The costume shop I rented this Santa getup has everything. I think I saw a male dragon and female dragon costume. And if Elizabeth wants two dragons, she'll have two dragons, even if it means Arthur's dressing up as my dragon mate."

"Dragon costumes, huh?" Ariadne laughs. "Looks like Arthur's not the only one wrapped around Elizabeth's finger." Ignoring Eames' frown, Ariadne continues. "In fact, I'd be hard pressed to determine which of the two of you is more tightly wound around her finger."

Eames forgoes comment when he sees Arthur comes down the stairs with David.

"What is it?" Arthur asks.

"We're going to need a couple of things." Eames starts pacing. "A rope and pulley system should take care of the flying." After a pause he continues with, "We'll need a couple of flamethrowers, of course." Eames ignores Arthur's questioning look and Ariadne's amusement and continues planning. "Hmm, the fire element means we'll have to do this outside. But that would also give us more room for the pulley system."

Arthur gives up on Eames and turns to his wife. "Flamethrowers! What is he talking about?"

Ariadne smiles, watching Elizabeth return with a large plate of Christmas cookies. "Elizabeth's Christmas wishlist."


	6. The Consequences Of Magic Tricks

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: The Consequences of Magic Tricks<strong>

"Is there nothing I can say or do to convince you two to come back?"

Eames' question remains unanswered for several moments as Ariadne dumps a set of squishy blocks on the floor for David to play with. Lounging on the sofa, Eames watches his eighteen month old nephew grab a block and line it next to another.

Satisfied with her son's preoccupation, Ariadne takes a seat next to Eames and places her hand on his knee. "Sorry Eames, but I don't think so. Arthur and I are retired. We're out." She lovingly looks over to David, who's made some progress and has four blocks lined up in a row. "We've got new adventures to tackle."

Eames watches the boy place a block on top of another. "So that's it, then? The great point man and architect retire from the business and leave Eames with nothing but fodder to work with?"

"You could always retire yourself. You don't need to keep working, you know."

Both adults are watching the little boy stack block on top of block. "And what would I do with myself then?"

"You could find someone. Get married. Have babies."

Eames remains silent, contemplative. He watches David carefully stand up and place a block on top of five others. The forger's gaze then swings to a family portrait, a picture of domestic happiness: husband and wife smiling, little boy in mother's lap with his indifferent baby stare, and little girl, her energy contained for a few brief moments as she sits on her father's lap, eyes bright. There are other pictures as well: a snapshot of Arthur in bandages and Elizabeth giving him a kiss; Ariadne holding onto a pumpkin clad and sticky Elizabeth; David and Elizabeth sitting on Santa's lap.

He's aware that the coziness of the home his friends have built is a big reason why he comes back here time and again. But it's also caused him to question his own future, namely the proposition that Ariadne has suggested. Could he have all this too? Is he ready to be a husband, a father?

"You make it sound easy. But I'm not lucky like that, like you and Arthur. I doubt Cobb is going to be introducing me to the love of my life anytime soon."

Ariadne smiles, remembering that day several years ago now when she was introduced to Arthur in that dusty workshop in Paris. "I'm not saying it's going to be easy, I'm just saying I think you're ready.

"And what makes you so certain?"

"Up-py!"

David's command interrupts the conversation for the moment and Eames can't help but be a little glad. The little boy is holding one of the soft blocks in his hands and has toddled over to Eames, requesting to be lifted up.

"David wants up?" Eames asks, knowing the answer. He picks him up and brings him to the impressive wall of blocks the boy has erected. Once close enough, the boy places his block at the top and wriggles out of Eames' grasp to pick up another block.

"Up-py!"

Eames obeys the command again and watches the boy place the block on top of the last one.

"You're ready Eames. I think you've been ready for a while. You just don't want to admit it." Ariadne gets up from the sofa and places a hand on his back, looking from him to her son. "But you are." She reaches up to place a kiss on his cheek and then one on David's before heading into the kitchen.

Keeping David in his arms, he glances down at the little boy who looks down at his towering creation. "What do you say, David? Do you think your Uncle Eames is ready to have his own family?"

Uninterested in the question, the little boy reaches down to try and grab another block. Eames bends down to hand one to him, and anticipating his demand, straightens up again to let him place this block on top of the last. Once satisfied with its placement, he squirms out of Eames arms and heads to the coffee table where his sippy cup of milk awaits.

Amused, Eames turns back to David's wall of blocks, impressed with the boy's ingenuity. The wall is almost twice as tall as David and very carefully balanced. Given that Ariadne's bent is to create, he supposes it must be rubbing off on David.

"David, my boy, this is something. If I were you, I'd have a celebratory drink, too." David ignores him, taking another swig of milk. "Of course, if I were your age, I'd most likely be knocking something like this over."

Finished with his milk, David toddles back over to where Eames is standing in front of the block wall. Then, without warning, the little boy starts waving his arms around wildly, punching at the blocks and making them fall in a colorful rain around him. The resulting chaos of his creation elicits squeals of delight from the toddler, who falls on top of the blocks and creates a further mess by pushing them around excitedly.

Eames, who at first was shocked to see such a display, laughs and bends down to join the little boy on the floor. He picks up a few of the blocks and dumps them on David, who laughs hysterically.

"Ease." The boy throws a block at him which Eames catches. He starts to line up the blocks with David watching him. Once the wall is tall enough, David picks up his own block and repeats his earlier command.

"Up-py."

Uncle and nephew pass the next several minutes building and destroying several walls of blocks, each time in a fit of laughter.

They have just knocked down one wall, scattering the blocks all around the living room floor, when Arthur and Elizabeth enter the room.

"Da-dee!" David calls, before bringing a block to his mouth.

"Hi David." Arthur takes in the scene of Eames and his son sitting amongst a pile of blocks and raises his brows.

"Where's Ariadne?" the point man asks, taking Elizabeth's coat and lunch box. They have just returned from Elizabeth's school.

"She's in the kitchen. Is something wrong?" Elizabeth, he notices, hasn't run up to him in her usual fashion. Instead, she remains next to her father looking rather chastened.

"I need to talk with you and Ariadne in the kitchen."

This news doesn't sit well with Elizabeth who instantly asks, "Am I in trouble, Daddy?"

Hearing the worry in her voice, Arthur bends down to gently address his daughter.

"No, Elizabeth, you're not in trouble. But I need you to stay here and watch your brother while I talk to Mommy and Uncle Eames in the kitchen, okay?"

"Is Uncle Eames in trouble?"

Suddenly alert, Eames waits to hear Arthur's answer.

The point man looks at him and then back to Elizabeth. "Watch your brother, okay." He straightens up and looks over at Eames. "Uncle Eames, could you please join me in the kitchen?" Without waiting for a response, Arthur leaves the room.

"Don't frown, Lizzybell, everything will be alright." Eames assures the girl as he rises from his seat on the floor. His assurance is more for himself, really, even though he's unsure what he's assuring himself for.

When he enters the kitchen, both Arthur and Ariadne are sitting at the kitchen table.

"Have a seat, Eames." Ariadne pulls out the chair next to her. Feeling like a schoolboy sent to the headmaster's office, he sits in the offered chair.

"Now, what's going on, Arthur?" Ariadne asks, once Eames is seated.

"Miss Kaminsky, Elizabeth's teacher," Arthur clarifies for Eames' sake, "and I had a talk when I went to pick Elizabeth up from school. She told me that she caught Elizabeth with her cell phone."

"Elizabeth had her cell phone?" Ariadne looks at her husband, confused. "What would Elizabeth be doing with her cell phone?"

"Showing it off to the other children. She says that Elizabeth was telling them that she just performed a _magic trick that her Uncle Eames taught her_."

Ariadne turns to Eames. "A magic trick? What kind of magic trick?"

Eames swallows, knowing he can't talk his way out of this one. "I may have shown her some sleight of hand tricks—

"Sleight of hand—oh, no, Eames, you didn't!"

He winces at the disappointment in Ariadne's tone. But it's nothing compared to the steely quiet behind Arthur's words, which make him cringe.

"He taught our daughter how to pick pockets."

"Oh, Eames…" Ariadne sighs.

"Elizabeth's teacher said she probably wouldn't have even known her phone was missing from her pocket if Elizabeth hadn't been showing it off," Arthur continues.

Eames does his damndest to hold in the impressed smile at hearing of Lizzy's skill. Only five years old and she's already better than he was at that age.

"This isn't funny, Eames." As if no longer able to contain his anger, Arthur gets up from the table and starts pacing, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You should have seen Kaminsky's face when she was telling me Elizabeth had her cell phone. She thinks we taught her that. She probably thinks that we're criminals! We're lucky she decided to talk to me first and not send Elizabeth to the principal's office."

"Uh, excuse me, but technically, Miss Kaminsky is not that far off on the criminal element."

Wrong thing to say.

"No, we're not criminals, not anymore. Ariadne and I are done with that. We're going to be good examples and teach our children right from wrong. That's part of the reason why we retired from the business. We wanted to remove that element from our lives." Arthur pauses, looking at Eames without anger now, but with something far more frightening. "But we obviously didn't remove everything."

Rising from his seat, Eames suddenly feels a keen fear, one he's never experienced before. It travels from the pit of his stomach and nearly chokes his words. "What are you saying, Arthur?"

"Look, Eames, Ariadne and I just think it would be best if—

"If you'd talk with Elizabeth about what she did today and why it was wrong," Ariadne interjects, ignoring Arthur's frown.

"Ariadne, we talked about this. If we want our children to grow up in a healthy and stable home, we have to leave certain parts of our past behind and that includes—

"I know what we talked about, Arthur." She gets up from her chair to go to her husband and take his hand. "And it wasn't hurting the people we love." She looks to Eames and smiles. "Eames, what Arthur and I both think would be best is if our family had an Uncle Eames who occasionally spoils our children by giving them candy when they're not supposed to have any, who dresses up as Santa Claus or a flying dragon, and who loves and treats our children as if they were his own. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

She jabs his stomach hard with her elbow when he remains silent.

"Urgh! Uh, yes. Yes, that's right."

Eames looks at his friends, relief washing over him and making him smile. "Well, I can do that. Just call me fun Uncle Eames."

"Not so fast, fun Uncle Eames." Eames' smile disappears when Ariadne walks up to him with a stern expression. Behind her, he sees Arthur smile.

"Being a part of our family is not all about fun and games. We have responsibilities, too. Like Arthur said, we want to set good examples for the children. That means explaining what behavior is appropriate and what is not. Is picking pockets an appropriate thing to do?"

"Well, given the circum—uh, I mean, no, not it is not," Eames finishes when Ariadne's expression becomes sterner as she crosses her arms.

"That's right. And now you're going to do the responsible thing and explain to Elizabeth that what she did was wrong."

"Shouldn't you and Arthur be the ones…?" Despite her size, Eames comes to realize how truly frightening Ariadne can be as she narrows her eyes and clenches her fists. "On second thought," he wisely amends, "since I was the one to teach Lizzy…that thing…" he wisely amends again after catching Arthur's grimace, "I should be the one to explain to her how wrong it was—it is," he finishes when Ariadne makes one more threatening move.

"Good. I'm glad you feel that way."

As if she wasn't about to take him to task, Ariadne smiles triumphantly and grabs his arm, dragging him into the living.

"Elizabeth, your Uncle Eames has something he wants to talk to you about."

Elizabeth rises from her position on the floor next to her brother and a pile of blocks that looks impressively like the Eiffel Tower.

"Am I in trouble, Uncle Eames?"

Eames stands uncertain, wondering how and where exactly to have this conversation. David is on the floor, trying to eat a squishy block; Arthur leans on a wall by the kitchen entrance, arms crossed with an expectant look on his face; and Ariadne takes a seat on one of the sofas, looking as if she's expecting a great show.

"Uh, no?" He looks to Ariadne who smiles and nods encouragingly.

"I just need to talk to you about what happened today at school." He finally decides to take a seat on the unoccupied sofa. "Come here."

Elizabeth walks over and hops on the sofa next to him.

"Miss Kaminsky gave me a time out." Elizabeth begins.

"She did?"

The girl nods. "You know what? I hate school time outs more than home time outs."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, 'cause at school when you get a time out you can't play with your friends."

"Well, that does sound terrible. But you know, I want to talk to you about why you got that time out."

"'Cause of that magic trick you teached me. Miss Kaminsky didn't like it. How come she didn't like it, Uncle Eames?" Elizabeth pouts.

Eames has to clear his throat a few times, trying to find the right thing to say. His audience doesn't make it any easier. Ariadne leans in closer, Arthur has made his way over and has taken a seat next to her, and even David has gotten up and made his way over to Ariadne.

"Well, Lizzybell, you see Miss Kaminsky didn't like what you did because it wasn't really a magic trick."

"It wasn't? But you said—

"I know, Lizzybell, but you see, I may have, kind of, told you…a lie."

Elizabeth's eyes turn as wide as saucers. "You lied? But Uncle Eames, you can get a time out for lying!"

"I know Lizzybell, it was wrong of me to lie to you. I'm sorry."

"Why did you lie?"

When her face falls Eames feels like the worst sort of person. He wishes he can go back to being just fun Uncle Eames, but he knows how important this is for Elizabeth and for himself.

Cupping her head, he gently explains. "Well, I didn't mean to do it on purpose, Lizzy. It was unintentional. You see, I taught you that trick because I wanted to share something with you, teach you something that I know how to do. Unfortunately, that something I taught you is a bad thing."

"The magic trick was bad?"

He looks over at Ariadne who gives him another encouraging nod.

"Yes. Do you know why it's bad?"

Elizabeth thinks for a moment before responding. "Daddy said I took something that doesn't belong to me, that's why Miss Kaminsky put me in time out."

"That's right. And we don't take something that doesn't belong to us without asking first."

"But I was going to give it back."

"That's not the point. It's wrong to take something from someone without asking, especially when that something is on that person. It's stealing, and people don't like that."

"Miss Kaminsky didn't like it."

"That's right. And you got a time out for it." Thinking his duty done, he checks with Ariadne who gives him the 'go on', nod.

"So, uh, in conclusion, you shouldn't take things from people without asking, which means you shouldn't do that trick again, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." He kisses Elizabeth on top of her head. The girl tilts her head and gives him a questioning look.

"Uncle Eames?"

"What is it, Lizzybell?"

"If it's bad to take things from people without asking, then how come you teached me? I got in trouble."

Damn, that's a good question and something he wanted to avoid explaining. He looks up to both Ariadne and Arthur, hoping to be let off the hook for this particular explanation but they both shake their heads indicating that his new Uncle Eames duties are not over. Even David is looking at him with an interested expression from underneath the block he's still trying to stuff into his mouth.

It would be so much easier for him if he could just lie to Elizabeth, but he's supposed to set a good example, and surely Arthur, and probably Ariadne, knew the truth. Lying now would just get him banned from visiting, and at this point, that would be worse than any vulnerability he may experience with his confession.

"Remember when I taught you the trick, Lizzybell? You were so happy because your daddy just taught you how to tie your shoes. Do you remember?"

"Yeah! It was hard, but Daddy showed me how to make the bunny ears with them and it was easy!"

"Yes, well, I think I was a little jealous of your daddy. I was jealous that he got to teach you how to do things like tie your shoes or help you with your reading. And he and your mummy will continue to teach you all kinds of new things. I…I just wanted to be able to teach you something too. Unfortunately, the only thing I could think of was what my dad taught me."

"Your daddy taught you the magic trick?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing. "It's not a magic trick, Lizzybell. It's stealing and it's what my dad taught me."

"Stealing is bad. Why did your daddy teach you to do bad things, Uncle Eames?"

"Well, I suppose it's because he was a bad person and that's all he knew how to do. And then he taught me."

Elizabeth frowns, obviously contemplating her next question. It takes her several moments to come up with it, but Eames doesn't interrupt. When she finally asks, Eames is at a loss for what to say.

"Are you a bad person too, Uncle Eames?"

"Elizabeth, sometimes good people do bad things, but that doesn't make them bad. For example, you took something from Miss Kaminsky without her permission, but you're not a bad person. And your Uncle Eames taught you that trick, but he's not a bad person." Thankfully, Ariadne saves him from having to respond.

Elizabeth seems to accept this. "I think you're a good person, Uncle Eames." She gives him a hug that makes him melt inside.

"Thank you Lizzybell. I think you're a good girl too."

"Up-py!" David request pulls him apart from Elizabeth, but Ariadne quickly takes control.

"No, David, come here." She picks the little boy up. "Uncle Eames can't play with you now. He has to have a time out."

"What? A time out? What for?"

"Because you lied, Uncle Eames. And lying gets you a time out." She takes Elizabeth's hand. "Right, Elizabeth? Come on. We'll go have a snack in the kitchen. Your Uncle Eames needs to sit here by himself for a while and think about what he's done." And with that Ariadne takes her children into the kitchen.

Eames watches Arthur get up from his seat on the other sofa and start making his way into the kitchen.

"Well, how long do I have to sit here by myself?"

Arthur shrugs. "Maybe thirty minutes? I don't know, it's up to Ariadne. Oh, and you don't just sit here. You have to think about the consequences of your actions and how they affect other people." The point man smiles when Eames gives him a look of disbelief.

"I'm not sure I want to be part of this family," Eames pouts, crossing his arms and slumping down on the couch.

"Is that so?" Arthur asks with an annoying smirk, turning a picture over so Eames can see it.

It's a picture of him and Arthur dressed as dragons with Elizabeth and David petting them.

"No, of course not," he smiles.


	7. Haaave You Met Uncle Eames?

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

Author's Note: Title is a reference from How I Met Your Mother. Legendary!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Haaave You Met Uncle Eames?<strong>

"Can you help us find our Uncle Eames?"

Cassie looks up from the book she's reading to find two small children, a girl and a boy, holding hands and standing before her. The girl looks to be no more than five or six, while the little boy could be no more than two.

"You can't find your uncle?" She puts the book she'd been reading down on the blanket she's sitting on and gets up. "Where did you last see him?"

"Over there." The girl points to a bench situated in front of the children's playground in the park. She sees some parents nearby, but none seem to be frantically looking for missing children.

"Okay, don't worry. Why don't we go back over there and wait. Maybe he just went to the restroom." Hopefully that's the case. If not, she can always get the other parents to help her look.

"Okay." The little girl and boy follow her back over to the bench.

"What are your names?" she asks, hoping to get their mind off the fact that their uncle is missing. When she looks down at them however, neither child seems to be frightened. That's helpful for her, at least.

"I'm Elizabeth and this is my brother David. Say hi, David."

"Hi." The little boy smiles shyly, bringing out an adorable little dimple.

"My name is Cassie. Don't worry, okay? We'll find your Uncle…what did you say his name was again?"

"Uncle Eames," Elizabeth says brightly.

"Don't worry, we'll find your Uncle Eames."

They make it to the bench and she tries to figure out her next move. "So, uh, you still don't see your Uncle Eames around anywhere?"

Elizabeth doesn't bother looking around before shaking her head emphatically.

Cassie does take a look, realizing she doesn't know who she's looking for. "What does your Uncle Eames look like?"

"Uncle Eames is very handsome. He's tall and strong. He has big muscles, and he has tattoos on his muscles and they make him super strong so he can give us piggy-back rides."

Cassie smiles at Elizabeth's description. "Okay, but what about his hair, what color hair does he have? Is it short or long?"

"He has short hair. And it's brown, but not dark brown like mine and David's. It's like… the color of that dog!" She points out a caramel-colored Labrador that someone is walking. "And he has some hair on his face and sometimes it tickles when I kiss his cheek," the little girl giggles.

Cassie searches for a tall, muscular man with short caramel colored hair sporting facial hair. "Do you remember what he's wearing?"

"Umm…he's wearing a black shirt and blue pants like yours."

Cassie looks down at her jeans. "You mean jeans?" She looks up and searches again but doesn't see a man fitting that description. She begins to worry a bit and wonders if she should call the police.

"Yeah. He doesn't like to wear suits, like my daddy. He says it's too stuffy. Not stuffy like my stuffed elephant, Ellie, but Uncle Eames says he's not comfortable in suits like Daddy. And Uncle Eames likes Ellie and he likes to play games with me and David. He's the best uncle."

"I'm sure he is and we'll find him." Cassie can't keep the smile from her face at Elizabeth's description.

"Yeah, he is. We love Uncle Eames, right David? You love Uncles Eames, too," she prods her brother.

The little boy smiles and points. "Eames."

David is pointing to a copse of trees. When Cassie turns to look that way she sees someone duck behind a tree trunk. She looks back down at the little boy. He's smiling.

"And Uncle Eames is very nice, Cassie." Elizabeth insists. "And smart, too. But not as smart as Daddy. Uncle Eames always tells me to 'ask Daddy' when he doesn't know the answer, like how the baby got inside mommy's belly."

"Mmm-hmm." She's only half paying attention to Elizabeth. The other half of her attention is on David, who's still smiling at the nearby copse of trees. "David, what are you looking at over there? Do you see your Uncle Eames?"

"Eames." He smiles and starts to tug on his sister's hand, leaning towards the trees.

"And Uncle Eames is very rich!"

Elizabeth's outburst startles Cassie and she turns to look at the little girl.

"Lizzy! David! There you two are! I've been looking all over for you. I've been so worried!"

"Uncle Eames!"

A man fitting Elizabeth's description of her Uncle comes running from the direction of the trees. True to her word, he is extremely handsome in his t-shirt, well-fitting jeans, and aviator sunglasses. His hair is cut close and carefully mussed, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days. When he reaches the trio, he bends down to the waiting arms of his niece and nephew. The enthusiasm with which they greet him is genuine and heart-warming.

"You found us, Uncle Eames!"

"I can't let the two of you out of my sight for even a second, can I?"

After a few more hugs and kisses, he looks up at her. He straightens, picks up David in the process and removes his sunglasses. They reveal a pair of blue-gray eyes that she's determined not to be mesmerized by.

"This is Cassie, Uncle Eames. She helped us look for you. She's very nice. And pretty." Cassie eyes the little girl, who she has a sneaking suspicion is playing matchmaker.

"Thank you for staying with these two little scamps. I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to them."

If she thought his eyes were mesmerizing it's only because she hadn't yet seen his smile, which, when paired with his eyes, is glorious.

"It was no problem. I think the fact that Elizabeth and David were very calm throughout and not worried at all helped."

"They are little troopers. I always tell them that a cool head will get you through any situation."

And his voice. As cliché—not to mention outdated—as it sounds, she could listen to him read an entire dictionary page by page.

"Uncle Eames lives in a batch lord pad, Cassie. Mommy says it needs a woman touching it. Maybe later, you can touch it." Elizabeth, Cassie is discovering, is nothing if not determined.

"Uh, haha." Eames' cheeks redden a little. "Hey Lizzybell. Why don't you and David go play in the sandbox over there? I'll be right here, keeping my eyes on you two the whole time."

"Are we still gonna get ice cream later? You promised if we helped you get—

"Yes! Yes! We'll go have ice cream later. But I think David wants to play in the sandbox. Can you take him over there while I finish thanking Cassie for watching you guys?"

"Eames." David points to the same copse of trees he had been pointing to earlier. "Hide-seek."

"It sounds like David wants to play hide and seek instead. He's been eyeing those trees over there for a while now. They look like a pretty good hiding place." Cassie has to give Eames credit for not flinching when she mentions the game or hiding.

"Yeah, it's David's favorite game." He bends down to address the children. "Now run along. I'll be right here." He watches Elizabeth guide her brother to the large sandbox several feet away. Once they reach it he turns back to Cassie.

"Again, thank you for looking after them. You don't know what torture you saved me from had anything happened to them. Their parents are quite protective of them."

"It sounds as if you are too. And the feeling seems to be mutual. Your niece had nothing but very complimentary and flattering things to say about you."

She gives him a look that clearly states she's on to him.

"I know what you're thinking."

"That a man who would use children to pimp him out to girls at the park must be either desperate, pathetic, or both?"

Like a naughty little boy getting caught making mischief, Eames rubs his hand across the back of his neck, looking chastened.

"Desperate and pathetic? That's a bit harsh, don't you think? I was just…using the resources I had at hand: two endearing children who love and adore me."

"You know, your niece didn't mention anything about you being humble," she teases.

"What did she tell you?"

"That you don't know where babies come from and that you're rich."

"What?" He turns back to eye his niece. She's helping David build a mound of sand. "I told her to play up my good looks."

Despite herself, Cassie laughs. "She did mention that your hair is the same color as that Lab over there."

Eames shakes his head. "She likens me to a dog. I've got to talk to that girl about the art of being a wingman." He then turns the full force of his smile and good looks on her. "Unless, of course, she was successful and you'd like to have a coffee sometime?"

She's tempted, but resists temptation. "I don't think so."

"Why not? Are you married?"

"No."

"Fiancé? Boyfriend?"

"No and no."

"Girlfriend?"

"No," she laughs. "Can't a girl just not be interested?"

"Sure. But I think we both know that's not true in this case."

She scoffs at his audacity and conceit. "Look, as hard as this may be for you to believe, _you_ aren't my type."

"And as hard as it may be for you to believe, _you_ don't know me. Not all of me, anyway. But we can remedy that by having a cup of coffee. Then you can decide whether or not I'm your type."

"I'm sorry. You do seem nice and it's obvious that your niece and nephew adore you, but I can't."

"Alright. You can't fault a guy for trying." Eames shrugs, backing off.

Even though it's what she wants, Cassie can't help but be a little disappointed that he gave in so easily. She was enjoying talking with him, as manufactured as their whole meeting was.

"Well, I better get back."

"Before you do, would you mind saying goodbye to Elizabeth and David? They didn't get a chance to thank you for your kindness."

"That's not necessary."

"Please? I'm trying to teach them good manners."

She ignores the little niggling in her mind that tells her the slight pouting of his full lips when as he asks has more to do with her answer than helping to promote good manners. "Sure. I'm all for good manners." She follows him to the sandbox where the children have made an impressive mound out of the sand.

"Lizzy, David; Cassie has to go now. Please thank her for being exceptionally nice and watching over you while we were separated."

Elizabeth stands, wiping sand off her legs. Instead of doing as he asked, she asks, "Is Cassie going to be your girlfriend now, Uncle Eames?"

Eames sighs dramatically and shoots Cassie an apologetic look. "No, Lizzybell, Cassie isn't going to be my girlfriend."

"Why not? Don't you like Uncle Eames?" Elizabeth's forlorn face catches her off-guard and leaves her speechless.

"Lizzy," Eames squats down to her level and admonishes, "we talked about this, remember? You have to get to know someone better to know whether or not you like them. And Cassie told me that she doesn't want to get coffee with me later and get to know me better."

Suddenly, she realizes she's being played.

"But our Uncle Eames is the nicest and funnest uncle in the whole world. You should have coffee with him. He'll even pay for it."

"It's alright Lizzybell. Your Uncle Eames will be alright. He still has you and David. You both love me, right?"

She knows she should stop them, but all Cassie can do is shake her head in amused disbelief. Besides, their little show is far too entertaining.

As if on cue, Elizabeth and David both come in to give Eames a hug.

"Love Eames," David mumbles from the crook of Eames' neck.

"We'll always love you, Uncle Eames. You don't need to have a date and a girlfriend. You're our family and we always love and take care of our family, forever."

As corny as Elizabeth is sounding, Cassie has to admit that the little girl is good at playing at the heartstrings. But as she examines the little family together, she also has to admit that it doesn't look completely for show and that the love pouring out from the three looks truly genuine.

With a sigh, she laughs and says, "Alright. How about a compromise?"

Eames releases the children and looks up.

"A compromise?" he asks, carefully.

"Yes. I believe you mentioned something about ice cream earlier? I like ice cream too. If you don't mind, I'd like to join you three for some."

Hearing about the ice cream, Elizabeth and David snap out of their solemn mood.

"Ice cream!" David enthuses.

"I like ice cream too," Elizabeth adds. "What's your favorite Cassie? Mine's sherbet 'cause it's pretty and looks like a bowl of frozen rainbow."

"I like rocky road."

"That's Uncle Eames' favorite too!" She excitedly swivels her head looking at the two of them.

"Alright, Elizabeth, I've got it from here," Eames laughs.

"Well, isn't that a coincidence? Tell me, Elizabeth, what else does your Uncle Eames like?"

The little girl takes her hand and starts pulling her to the ice cream stand. She rattles off a laundry list of her uncle's likes and dislikes. Eames picks David up and follows the girls.

"Well David, what do you think?" Eames says quietly to the boy. "Could she be your new Auntie, you think?"

The little boy nods his head enthusiastically. "Ice cream!"


	8. Advice For A Groom On His Wedding Day

Rating PG-13 for minor language and mild references to sex

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Advice For A Groom On His Wedding Day<strong>

"Will you sit down? You're actually dressed decently for once and you're going to mess it up by ruining the lines of your suit."

Eames stops in the middle of his pacing to turn to Arthur and five month old Noah, the latest addition to his and Ariadne's family.

"I can't. I have all this…energy. I won't be able to sit still." Ignoring Arthur's request, Eames continues pacing in the little room. "I suppose it doesn't help that I keep imaging a scenario where she won't show up." Eames stops again to turn to Arthur with a worried frown. "What if she changes her mind?"

Arthur has never seen Eames look or sound more vulnerable. Seeing him in such a state, he decides to do his duty as Eames' best man and help calm the groom's wedding day jitters. But not before he gets in his own ribbing.

Rising from his seat with Noah in his arms, Arthur walks over to Eames.

"It is entirely possible. Everyone knows Cassie is too good for you."

"What kind of best man are you? You're supposed to be helping me, not giving me panic attacks!"

Unconcerned with Eames' theatrics, Arthur laughs and reaches out a hand to adjust Eames' tie which has somehow become askew. "I'm just repeating your words. That's what you told me when I got married, remember?"

"I remember you being a nervous twat and me talking some sense into you."

"Well, consider this a repeat of that, only now our roles are reversed and you're the nervous twat and I'm talking some sense into you."

"Yeah, well, I'm not hearing much sense coming out of your mouth."

Arthur laughs and continues to straighten Eames' suit. "Your Uncle Eames is just a mess, isn't he Noah?" he addresses his son. "He's driving himself crazy and ruining the effects of his fine-tailored suit. We're going to have to teach him about the proper wear and care for his formal wear, aren't we?"

"I'm not sure a lesson from a baby eating his tie is going to help me." Little Noah, aside from looking like a miniature Arthur in his adorable miniature tailored suit, is happily slobbering away on his clip-on tie. "And aside from silly rhymes, I'm still not hearing anything of sense coming from my best man."

"Alright, you want some sense? Here it is. You're being ridiculous. The woman you're marrying today is a wonderful person. She's decent, intelligent, witty, and kind. But perhaps her most impressive quality, and I can't stress enough how impressive this is, is the fact that she loves you. Cassie loves you, Eames. She knows your faults and imperfections and she loves you. She knows the good and the bad and she loves you. And in a few minutes, she'll be walking down the aisle to tell you and god and everyone how much she loves you."

"She does love me, doesn't she?" Eames smiles, a little dazedly, almost as if he's realizing this for the first time. "You're right. I know that. I am being ridiculous, aren't I?" Eames seems to snap out of his self-doubt and heads over to the dressing mirror to check on his appearance.

"Can you believe I'm getting married in a church? I thought for sure god was going to strike me down once I entered."

"Maybe he's waiting until you're in front of the altar. It'd be more dramatic that way."

Eames catches Arthur's eyes in the mirror. "You're not helping," he warns.

Arthur smiles and returns to his earlier seat. "Alright, I'm sorry."

A knock on the door along with a muffled, "Uncle Eames, it's us!" is quickly followed by the flower girl, the ring bearer, and their mother entering the groom's dressing room.

"We just saw Cassie, Uncle Eames," Elizabeth announces. "She looks so beautiful." The girl lifts her hands and does a twirl. "Like a fairy princess."

"Good. Good." Eames checks his hair.

"I'm the ring bear. Rawr! Rawrrrr!" David, who had misunderstood his role as the ring bearer, makes growling noises towards Eames. Eames had told the little boy that he had to protect the ring as he carried it down the aisle. David took that to mean he could growl like a grizzly bear at anyone who threatened the ring's safety.

"That's nice, David," Eames says absently as he continues to fidget with his already immaculate suit.

Ariadne shares a look with Arthur, both noticing Eames' uncharacteristic responses and behavior. "She'll be ready soon, Eames," she says. "We came in to tell you that you should head to the altar now."

"Yes. I'm almost ready. Let me just fix my tie." Eames makes one adjustment after another. Still unsatisfied, he pulls it out from under his waistcoat. "Why won't this damn tie cooperate!" He loosens the garment in a frantic pull and removes it completely.

"Uncle Eames!" Elizabeth gasps. "You said a bad word!"

"Eames?" Ariadne turns to Arthur. "What's wrong with him?"

Arthur gets up and hands Noah over to her before taking the tie away from Eames. "He's got a bad case of wedding day jitters. Here, let me help you with this." He fixes Eames's collar and quickly starts to redo the tie.

"You're his best man. You're supposed to get him over this," Ariadne admonishes.

"I did. At least, I thought I did. I tried."

As if finally deflating by the weight of his own anxiety, Eames sinks into a nearby chair. He looks around him, at the worried faces of his adopted family, and sighs. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

"'Cause of the wedding jitterbugs, Uncle Eames?" Elizabeth cautiously approaches her uncle.

"It's more than jitterbugs, Lizzybell." He pulls the little girl onto his lap, needing the comfort and strength he always feels when he holds one of the children. He's finding he needs that strength now, more than ever.

"What are you saying, Eames?"

Eames looks up at Ariadne holding her youngest son. Close by, Arthur stands seemingly at the ready for whatever Eames decides. At his side David clings to his leg.

"I don't know if I can do this. I'm not sure I know how to be married or if I can even be a good husband." He also has doubts about being a good father, but that seems so far away, if at all possible, that he doesn't say anything about it.

"Eames, that's ridiculous. You're going to be fine," Ariadne assures.

"Yeah, you're worrying too much." Arthur clasps his hand to Eames' shoulder.

"But what if I mess things up? What if I do something stupid?"

"Well of course you're going to do something stupid. All men do. That's not exclusive to married men. But if Cassie loves you, _really_ loves you, then she'll love all of you, stupidity and all."

"That's pretty much what Arthur told me earlier," Eames muses.

"Well, he's right."

Elizabeth, who had been silent for quite some time, tugs on her uncle's lapel. "Uncle Eames?"

"What is it, Lizzybell?"

"I know how you can be good at being married."

Her serious declaration makes him forget some of his anxiety and he smiles. "You do? Well, okay, let's hear it. What's your advice?"

"Well, first you have to always kiss each other and smile, like you're very happy."

"Okay, kiss and smile a lot. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, there is. You also have to make sure there's always coffee in the morning, 'cause if there's no coffee, then Cassie might be grumpy, like Daddy."

"Okay, so kiss and smile a lot and make sure there's coffee. Got it."

"And also, you should tell her she's pretty, even when she's wearing an ugly dress. And she should tell you that you look handsome, even when you wear those shirts that Daddy says you should burn."

Eames looks up to catch Arthur trying to hide a smile.

"What's wrong with my shirts? Cassie likes my clothes."

"That's good." The little girl nods in approval. "And also, if Cassie's working, then bring chocolates to her and ask her if she wants her neck rubbed. But don't rub too hard 'cause it will hurt. But if it does you can just kiss it to make it feel better. And sometimes it takes a lot of kisses, like a hundred!"

"Really?" Eames throws Ariadne a questioning gaze. She smiles and shares a look with Arthur. "That is a lot of kisses, Lizzybell. What else should I know about being good at being married?"

"Well…" Elizabeth takes a moment to think. "Oh, I know. If you and Cassie have a disagreement, then you have to apologize. Say you're sorry and then kiss and make-up."

"That sounds like very good advice."

"But don't kiss and make-up too much because it will make you tired and you will have to go to bed early, even if it's before your bedtime."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Sometimes Mommy and Daddy make-up too much and then they get tired and want to go to bed early. But then we all have to go to bed early and I don't like that," she pouts.

"Well, Lizzybell, I think I did hear that making-up can make grown-ups very tired, but if that's what we have to do, it's what we have to do," Eames chuckles.

"I guess."

Eames laughs again, feeling much better than he did only moments ago. His self-doubt is fading away. Elizabeth's advice may be filtered through a childish eye, but he knows that what she's observed holds truth. It's her parent's marriage that she's drawing her conclusions on, and he knows it's a good example to use.

"You know what Lizzybell? I think Cassie and I can do everything you said. Your advice is very helpful. Thank you." He tries to give her a hug, but she stops him.

"Oh, wait! There's something else."

"What is it?"

"You have to say 'I love you' all the time. 'Cause when you love someone, you want to say it every day."

"That is excellent advice, Lizzy." This time Elizabeth accepts his hug and kiss on the temple. "I love you, Lizzybell."

"I love you too, Uncle Eames."

Smiling, he eyes David staring at them wide-eyed.

"Where's my ring bear? Come here, David."

David comes roaring over and crashes into him and Lizzy.

"And I love you, too, David."

"I love you, Uncle Eames."

"Don't forget this little guy, Uncle Eames." Ariadne brings Noah over and hands him over to Eames' waiting arms. Noah still has his tie in his mouth, and for some reason, Eames finds it hilariously funny.

"I think you literally like suits more than your daddy." He kisses the boy on his cheek and settles him on his vacated lap before looking up and addressing everyone else.

"Thank you. It's nice to know that I have people in my life that care this much. I want you all to know that I love…" he pauses to sniff, "…oh, Noah." He holds him out for Ariadne to take. "Please take him. Standing at that altar smelling like I need to be changed might just be the deal breaker if Cassie has any doubts about marrying me."

"She doesn't, Eames, don't worry." She kisses him on the cheek and gives his hand an encouraging squeeze before leaving the room to change Noah.

As she leaves, Cassie's mother enters.

"Alright! She's ready. Come on! Come on! I need the flower girl and ring bearer." She hustles Elizabeth and David out of the room. Before she leaves, she addresses Eames and Arthur. "And what are you two still doing here? You need to be at that altar, now!"

Eames jumps out of his seat. "Yes, ma'am."

He starts to make his way out when Arthur stops him.

"Wait a minute, Eames. As your best man, I did plan for your inevitable freak-out." Eames turns to Arthur, who pulls a small flask out of his suit pocket.

"Your plan was to get me drunk?" he asks, incredulous.

"No, no. This is just to take the edge off." He hands Eames the flask. "It's whiskey."

Eames eyes the bottle with suspicion.

Arthur seals his fate when he says, "Come on. Cassie's waiting. And so is her mother."

Eames takes a quick swig, letting the alcohol burn its way down his throat. Arthur takes the flask from him and puts a mint into his hand.

"What's this for?"

"Standing at the altar smelling like you licked your way to the bottom of a whiskey barrel might just be the deal breaker if Cassie has any doubts about marrying you," Arthur teases, recalling Eames' words.

"You're right." He pops the mint into his mouth. "Thanks, Arthur. You are a good best man." He starts heading out the door, but stops suddenly. "Actually, you should have just started with this. What's wrong with you? I was worrying my ass off—

Arthur pushes him out the door. "Come on, let's get you married, Eames."


End file.
